


This is Home

by ThirtySixSaveFiles



Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Multi, So much angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-29 05:42:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7672327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirtySixSaveFiles/pseuds/ThirtySixSaveFiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim seems pretty happy most of the time.</p><p>The operative word there is <i>seems</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is Home

**Author's Note:**

> This was a fill for an anon prompt on tumblr: "♥: Reacting to the other one crying about something/ One falling asleep with their head in the other's lap... I couldn't decide" with a request for polyamory. I hope that a threesome counts! I am also so, so sorry that this is not the fluff you probably had in mind. ;_;

Timothy gets... _ restless _ sometimes. That’s the best way Rhys can describe it. He stares out the windows at the expanse of space, he sits, then stands, then sits again, and he’s a little more snappish than usual to both Jack and Rhys. Jack ignores it, so Rhys tries to too, and the moods never seem to last longer than a day or two anyway.

Until one day Rhys comes home to Jack’s penthouse suite and finds Timothy sitting on the couch facing the floor-to-ceiling windows, leaning forward with his elbows braced on his knees, staring straight ahead at the stars with tears streaming down his face.

“Oh my god - Tim, are you okay?” Rhys rushes forward a few steps and then stops. Maybe Tim wants to be alone right now, but Tim is turning to look at him and there’s surprise etched on his face.

“Am I -” he seems startled at the hitch in his own voice, and when he wipes a hand on his face he stares at his wet fingers as if they’ve betrayed him.

“I’m fine,” he says softly, as another tear slips down his cheek, and that is the biggest lie Rhys has ever heard and that  _ includes _ what Jack says about his own dick.

“O-kay,” Rhys says, approaching cautiously. “Sure.” He puts a hand on Tim’s shoulder as he gets closer, and Tim shudders at the touch, but he leans into it.

“Do you -” this seems like a potential minefield, but Rhys is going to try to navigate it anyway “- do you want to talk about it?”

“ _ No _ ,” and  _ now _ Tim’s voice is harsh and definite, but the tears are still rolling down his face and Rhys doesn’t know what to  _ do _ here, but he can’t leave Tim like this, not when he’s leaning into Rhys’ side, clearly seeking comfort.

“Okay. No talking. That’s fine. Let me just -” Rhys nudges Tim over a little and settles next to him. Tim leans into him gratefully, burying his face in Rhys’ neck, and Rhys puts his arm around Tim’s shoulders, pulling him close.

If this is what Tim needs from him, Rhys can do it. He’s not sure what’s going on, and worry is painting a faint sick feeling in his stomach, but there doesn’t seem to be any immediate problem - not one that he can fix, anyway - and if the best he can offer right now is to make sure Tim knows he’s not alone, Rhys will sit here as long as it takes.

Eventually Tim’s breathing slows, and when Rhys pulls back to look at him Tim’s eyes are half-closed. Rhys shifts him on the couch, and Tim grumbles half-heartedly but he follows Rhys’ direction until he’s curled up on the couch with his head in Rhys’ lap. Rhys pulls a throw off the back to tuck around him, and by the time he’s finished Tim is already asleep.

Rhys leans back against the couch, running a gentle hand through Tim’s hair, and wonders what brought this on.

He’s half-dozing himself when he hears the door slide open again behind him, and a quick check of the ECHO-eye tells him it’s only been about half an hour. Just about time for Jack to get home.

Rhys turns and makes a “shhh” gesture as Jack ambles over, and Jack raises his eyebrows but he takes the hint. He comes to a stop by the arm of the couch, and his face as he looks down at the two of them is nothing Rhys can read. It’s not anger, at least not any form that Rhys recognizes, and it’s not sadness, but it might be something somewhere in between the two.

“What happened here?” Jack asks quietly.

“I was hoping you could tell me,” Rhys says just as softly. For all that he’s getting to know Jack and Timothy, they have a long history together that Rhys is still learning, and there are pitfalls there he can’t even see sometimes.

Jack looks at Tim again, and Rhys can tell when he sees the puffy eyelids and the tear-tracks still on Tim’s cheeks, because his face twists in something like understanding and frustration.

So Jack  _ does _ know what’s going on here. The only question is if he’ll let Rhys in on it.

“Fuck me, is it March already?” Jack stuffs his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels. Rhys blinks at the non-sequitur, but Jack doesn’t leave him hanging for long.

“It was March when Tim signed on with me,” Jack offers, staring down at where Timothy’s sleeping, and Rhys feels everything fall into place with sickening, agonizing clarity.

Jack is still standing there, shoulders canted back as if he hasn’t just dumped a bombshell on Rhys that could change everything. Rhys needs to tread carefully here, because it feels like one wrong move will shatter the fragile equilibrium between the three of them.

“How long was his contract?” Rhys voice is hushed, and they’ve  _ never _ talked about this before, and if Tim was awake right now they probably wouldn’t be. Jack presses his lips together but doesn’t say anything.

That’s all the answer Rhys needs, really.

Rhys looks down at the man sleeping in his lap. Tim doesn’t seem unhappy - but clearly he  _ is _ , at least some of the time. Tim rarely talks about his other life, his life before Jack - and Rhys wonders if Tim mourns that, the loss of everything he knew before Hyperion. Before  _ Jack. _ Jack’s not the type to let go. Rhys knows that - he came into this with his eyes wide open.

Rhys suddenly wonders if Tim can say the same.

Jack voice cuts through Rhys’ reverie. “You’re good for him, you know that?” He sounds grudging, like the admission is being dragged out of him. “And I don’t just mean the sex, although let me tell you cupcake, your ass is pretty fucking spectacular.” He winks, but Rhys can see the cover for what it is, and he thinks this might be the closest Jack has ever come to admitting out loud that he knows what he does to people. Rhys loves the all-encompassing, undivided attention that Jack demands, and is happy to give it, but Rhys had a choice.

At the end of the day, the only person Rhys has to be is himself. Timothy doesn’t have that luxury.

Rhys is still staring at Tim’s face, wondering what to do with this newfound information when he feels a solid weight settling on on his other side. Jack drapes an arm around Rhys’ shoulders and brushes the hair away from Tim’s forehead. Tim sighs a little in his sleep.

“He’ll get over it. He always does.” Jacks careless tone is belied by the way his fingers smooth out the worry lines on Timothy’s brow, and the way he gently interlaces his fingers with Tim’s on top of Rhys’ leg. It might be Rhys’ imagination, but it seems like Tim’s fingers tighten minutely around Jack’s.

“This is home. The three of us,” Jack murmurs next to Rhys’ ear. “This is home,” and two months ago Rhys wouldn’t have been able to detect the thread of desperation there.

Rhys bumps his temple against Jack’s. He turns just enough to press his mouth the corner of Jack’s unsmiling lips, and as he does he thinks that yes, it is. For him, and for Jack, and he’ll do his best to make sure it is for Timothy as well.

This is home. 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at [ThirtySixSaveFiles](http://thirtysixsavefiles.tumblr.com) on Tumblr!


End file.
